The Worst Things For Sale

“Unless your the worlds most fuckable man, you need Sure Fuck Cologne!” (sic) says the manufacturer.   They also brag it “drives women into a Hot Sexual Frenzy!” If that’s true, it must smell an awful lot like having a full-time job.

The New Kube is the “world’s smallest MP3 player”, which also makes it the “world’s easiest to lose mp3 player” and the “world’s hardest to select the song you want to hear mp3 player.”

I’ve never understood ipad stands and ipad keyboards. If you want a crummy computer that doesn’t do much, you can get one for $250. It’s called a “laptop.”

Helpfully, the manufacturer of this “keyboard case cover” notes that the back-light on the keys can be set to seven different colors. Because that’ll let you run actual programs on your iPad instead of games that force you to pay ninety-nine cents every time you want an extra turn, right?

(I should note that I have an iPad, but that I don’t try to do anything productive on it, unless you consider losing at Scrabble and cussing at an iPad to be productive.)

This plastic model is the size of one pound of human fat. It’s supposed to help you visualize what eating 3500 extra calories looks like on your body. I don’t have any problem with this. I’m just linking it to you for the review by the customer who weighed the replica and was mad that it only weighed 14 ounces instead of sixteen. 

This Domo-Kun toaster is a great gift for the toast eater who prefers his bread half-untoasted, half-burned-to-shit.

You can’t fool me, Animal Crossing. I bought the original and played it, and it was fun, and then boring, so I turned it off. Then I bought the Nintendo DS version and I was like “Wait, this is the exact same game.” Then I bought the Wii version and it was also exactly the same. Maybe the animals talked more. I don’t remember. All I know is that if I want to pick fruit for hours and go in debt to buy a house I can do that in real life.

The new one supposedly has new features, which I’m guessing amount to “there’s more fruit to pick” and “if you pick fruit for 50 hours in a row you can get a new couch.”

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me…. four times… We won’t be fooled again.

If you eat so many cookies-soaked-in-milk that you need a special utensil to lower them into your glass, I would suggest that the utensil isn’t solving your real problem. It’s solving the problem you think you have, while you slowly murder your body with cookies.

Death comes for everyone, it’s just a matter of whether or not you want that particular line on the coroner’s report to read “cookies.”